The Effect You Have
by hijackeddandelion
Summary: In one swift motion he has me pinned against the tree with both arms on either side of me. His eyes are filled with desire as he bites his lip and stares at me. Our chests press together with every heavy breath we take. His actions are uncharacteristic and intense, and are probably his darker side coming out, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't excite me.


**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. All rights belong to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

I watch the red and yellow dance of the flames in front of me as the sound of the crackling wood is my only comfort. I move my feet away from the fire and pull my knees to my chest as I wrap my arms around them. We've been camped out just beyond the city limits of the Capitol since an unexpected pod detonated and took the lives of Leeg 2 and Messalla. After hearing of the attack, Plutarch contacted Boggs immediately to see who was still alive; no doubt for his precious propos. Haymitch spoke to me personally and informed me that we were to lay low for a few days to give the Peacekeepers time to let their guard down. That was three days ago.

Of course, Plutarch also spoke to Cressida and told her to keep up with the propos and to get shots of Peeta and I. Have us hugging each other and saying that we were so worried that we had lost the other, or something pathetic like that. That's the last thing I want to do. It's not that I wasn't worried about Peeta but acting it out would be too painful because I know it wouldn't be sincere on his part and that he wishes otherwise.

I look around and watch the surviving members of Squad 451.

Boggs, Homes, Jackson, and Gale are examining a map and pointing at different entry routes into the Capitol.

Finnick is tying knots with his rope.

Mitchell is cleaning his gun.

Castor and Pollux are sharing a ration of bread.

And Leeg 1 and Cressida retired to their tents early, no doubt to mourn their losses in private.

Oh, and there's Peeta but I can't bring myself to look at him.

The thought of having to add Leeg 2 and Messalla to my list of "people who died because of me" makes me feel too sick to eat and I'm not one to make small talk so I focus my attention back on the fire and do what I do best; stare into nothing and get lost in my own thoughts.

I'm not sure how much time passes but when the flames become too bright for me eyes, I look away and notice that everybody has left and entered their tents.

Well, not everybody. Peeta still sits beside the dying fire.

I allow myself to finally look at him. His dark eyes are fixated on the flames but I can tell his mind is elsewhere. I know it's not safe to be alone with him but this is the closest I can get to actually being _with_ him, so I stay.

My own thoughts become my worse enemy as I open the doors of my mind and allow myself to think of Peeta. How different would things have been if I had never left his side that last fateful night of the Quarter Quell? What could I have done differently? Could I have saved him from Snow? Could I have prevented his hi-jacking? Would our reunion have been filled with sweet kisses instead of choking sobs? Would he still love me? Would I have still realized that I love _him_?

There's no point in torturing myself with made up fantasies. No matter how many "what-if's" I think of, it doesn't change what has happened. What's done is done. This is my new reality. He is my reality. And there's nothing I can do to change that.

My Peeta is gone. His once gentle touches and comforting words are now killing strikes and cruel tongue-lashings. His bright blue eyes that gave me hope have been replaced with black orbs that confirm my worse fears. The boy who saw me as the most perfect thing in the world now sees me as nothing more than a mutt. And maybe I am. Maybe this is my punishment. This is what I deserve for taking him and his love for granted. This is what I deserve for playing with his emotions and using them for my own personal advantage and survival. This is what I deserve for kissing Gale behind his back.

My punishment is losing Peeta forever, for the person in front of me is no longer him. Sure, he looks and sounds like Peeta but it's just his shell. He's not even deserving to be called by his name. The Peeta I knew died that night in the Quarter Quell. The person currently in front of me is nothing more than one of Snow's Capitol-created puppets. My Capitol-created punishment.

I hear the sound of a twig break and am immediately on my feet with my bow in hand. I look around for Peacekeepers and notice that Peeta is no longer sitting. I quickly raise and aim my bow at him, ready for his attack. He just stands in front of the fire with his hands in his pockets, without looking at me, he simply states, "Don't worry sweetheart I'm not going to jump you, I just stood up so I could stretch my legs."

I slowly lower my bow as he looks my way and chuckles a dismissive laugh, "Not that your bow would do much damage anyway."

I feel irritation and anger boil through me but decide not to give in to his bait so I start walking towards my tent. "I'm going to bed." I'm sure to add at least a bit of anger to my tone.

"Wait. I'm sorry." I feel him tug on my arm and I quickly turn around. His touch isn't dangerous but rather cautious. I look up at his face and notice that his eyes are no longer black but rather a dark blue. Still not my blue but its better than nothing.

I shrug off his grasp, "What do you want?"

"I was wondering if you could play a game of Real or Not Real with me? The Squad has tried their best to answer my questions but are only able to answer the simple or obvious ones. The more difficult and important ones can only be answered by one person."

Me.

He wants to know about the dynamics of our relationship. Are we lovers? Are we fighters? The truth is, were both; we love each other so we fight for each other. The thought of being in love with Peeta is something that I've buried into the creases of my mind since learning of his hi-jacking. Knowing that I love him but he no longer loves me was just too much for my aching heart to handle so it was easier to try to ignore it and a least put a temporary band-aid on my already broken heart. This isn't something that I'm ready to talk about with him but his request is so innocent that I can't just walk away.

"Okay, I'll answer what I can."

His shoulders relax, "I really am sorry. My mouth moves faster than my thoughts." I see him make a contorted face at his own comment when he quickly looks at me and adds, "Not that _that_ was what I was thinking, its just...well my brain is...its confused and..." He lets out a frustrated sigh. "It's complicated."

I can't help but smile to myself. I take a seat in front of the fire and motion for him to join me. He adds a few more pieces of wood to the fire before he sits. It's silent for a while and I'm not sure who's suppose to prompt the questions but I decide to wait on him, he'll speak up when he's ready. He begins with easy questions.

"You and I are from District 12, real or not real?"

"Real. I'm from the Seam and you're from the merchant area.

"You used to hunt and trade illegally, real or not real?"

"Real. I would trade my squirrels with your father at the bakery."

"And he would give you bread or cookies in return."

"Yes, but the cookies were usually made by you which is why he would add them with no extra charge. I didn't know you were the one who made them until later."

"Ok." He pauses for a second as he processes the information. "We were both reaped for the 74th and the 75th Hunger Games, real or not real?"

"Real, well kind of. Your name was reaped for the 74th but I volunteered for my sister Prim and for the 75th, my name was reaped but you volunteered for Haymitch."

"Why?"

His question is so blunt that I'm taken off guard. I stutter before I respond, "You...you volunteered so you could protect me."

He snickers under his breath in a way that makes me uncomfortable. In the blink of an eye, he has changed before me. "You really had me whipped, didn't you? I would have done _anything _if it meant I could be with you. I should have just let Haymitch be your partner, that way you two could have died in that arena while I safely watched from the comfort of my home." His eyes suddenly dilate into black pits as his anger grows, "That way I wouldn't have been betrayed and left for dead by the two people I trusted most!"

He slams his fist in the dirt and stands on his feet. If he's going to attack me, I'm too afraid to move. I watch him as he yells obscenities to himself and clutches his hair with his hands. I should have known that talking about the Quarter Quell would be too sensitive for him, especially in his confused state. I slowly move to my feet, careful not to startle him.

"Peeta..." I say with caution.

He swiftly turns towards me with hatred in his eyes, "I should just kill you now!" He stalks towards me before he quickly steps aside.

"Stop! I don't kill, I protect!"

"I hate you so much!"

"No! Katniss, I love you!"

I watch as he argues with himself, almost like he's two different people. So this must be what Johanna told me about. Most people would have sedated him by now and identified him as "mentally incapacitated" but I'm hopeful. If there's still a trace of my Peeta in there than that means there's still a chance that he'll come back to me.

"I could never love a mutt as devious and conniving as you!"

My hope is immediately shattered. What if hi-jacked Peeta is stronger than _my _Peeta and he completely consumes him? I feel water stinging the corners of my eyes as I try to blink them away but all that does is bring more tears flowing down my cheeks. I let his rampage continue as his vicious words slowly beat me down.

"You never loved me! You used me! Even after you knew about my true feelings, you used them to stage a wedding! Knowing that I would agree! You should have just slapped me in the face! And if having to marry me wasn't enough of a sickening thought for you, you even got rid of our baby!"

Wait, what! All my sulking is pushed aside as I quickly look up at him with surprised eyes, "What! Who told you that?"

"President Snow. He told me that you were so disappointed in having to carry _my _child that you choose to eliminate him or her instead of bringing them into this world!"

His voice slowly cracks as he finishes. His eyes are still angry but are filled with tears. How could Snow be so twisted and sick to put a thought like that in Peeta's mind? I want to tell him that it's obviously not true but I also want to tell him that I wish it was. If I was carrying his child than I would at least have a piece of him with me to call my own; but I won't add that part because its even shocking for me to think to myself.

I thought I'd sound angry when I spoke but instead my voice sounds pleading, "Peeta, you know that's not true! That it's not real! You made up the baby story in hopes that Snow would cancel the Games. I didn't even know about your plan until you dropped the bomb on stage but I wasn't mad, I was grateful." I grab him by the arms and give him a squeeze, "Please Peeta, you know I would _never _do that to you."

His eyes are looking everywhere but mine as he tries to reason with himself. "But Snow said..." His voice trails off as his mind concentrates. His dilated eyes slowly reduce in size, "No. That was just another one of his lies. That was never real."

His body suddenly slumps forward, defeated by itself. He uses his right hand to balance his body against a tree while his right hand massages his eyes. I release my grip and cautiously watch him, not sure if his episode is over. When he finally looks up at me, my heart chips another piece. His eyes are back to their dark blue color but are glossy with tears and hold a mixture of conflicting emotions; sadness, confusion, anguish. I am looking into the eyes of a lost and confused boy who is all alone in this tormented world. Although he is no longer in Snow's custody, he is still being tortured by the conflicting memories that he has no control of. He is so broken.

I don't know why I'm the one who starts to cry when he's the one who can't even remember who his friends are. I slide my back down the tree trunk until I hit the dirt floor. I bury my face into my arms as I release hot tears. This just isn't fair. Of all the people this could have happened to, it had to be the most caring and selfless person of all. Peeta doesn't deserve any of this and if I could take all of his pain and place it upon myself, I would welcome it with open arms.

I wipe my face and sniffle back a few sobs before I speak, "Sometimes, I wish this whole thing wasn't real."

Peeta joins me once again on the floor as he whispers, "But it is. Real or not real?"

The answer is so obvious but it is so hard to leave my tongue, "Real."

We sit in silence for a while as I cease my crying and attempt to control my breathing and Peeta pulls out a rope of his own to tie knots. I feel the need to say something so I start with the story I dare not tell anyone else, "Every night I go to bed, I'm too afraid to actually fall asleep knowing what nightmares will come as soon as I close my eyes; and every night I pray that the one time I do close my eyes, I'll open them and find myself on the train for the Victory Tour and that this entire _thing _will just be one long nightmare." I wipe away a stray tear, "I'll look up to find your arms wrapped around me as you look down at me and whisper reassurances in my ear and when I ask you to stay with me, you'll say-"

"Always." His tone is so loving and sincere that my heart leaps at the sound of it. He looks at me for several moments before he continues, "There are some things I remember, about the nights on the train. Mostly just quick flashes of memories such as you screaming, me running in, and eventually us sharing a bed together." He pauses as he thinks, "Actually, a lot of memories of us in bed."

My cheeks grow red at the conclusion he must be thinking of. Our nights on the train are one of my most favorite memories with him because it was a time when we could be ourselves without the pressure of the cameras. When we snuck away into each other's rooms it was for our own comfort against our nightmares and our enjoyment at what Effie would do if she found us. What I enjoyed the most was knowing that every gentle touch and whispered word we shared was not rehearsed but genuine and real.

"We did share a bed but not in the way you think." I simply state but of course the answer does not satisfy him.

"But we were intimate, real or not real?"

"Real, but we never took our relationship to that final step. I asked you to stay with me because you helped ward off the nightmares and together we could get a better night's sleep. There were moments when I would fall asleep on your chest or you would plant a good-night's kiss on my forehead but that's it. I felt safe in your arms and you felt safe having me there."

Gosh, I make us sound like nothing more than a business deal. He stares at me like he knows I'm not telling him the entire truth. Like he knows there were deeper emotions buried beneath the surface. I'm not good with words like Peeta is but if anyone deserves to hear them, it's him. I take a deep breath and just let my heart do the talking.

"I would ask you to hold me at night because the feel of your arms felt good around me. When I was wrapped in your arms, I felt like nobody, not even President Snow, could penetrate through them and as long as I stayed enveloped in your embrace, than you and I would be safe. I loved to lie my head on your chest and fall asleep to the sound of your heartbeat, like it was my own personal lullaby. On nights when you would kiss me on the head or cheek, I knew it was because you were feeling brave but I would allow it because your lips would leave a lasting warm impression that could keep me warm during the coldest of nights." I smile at my own memories, "We would talk, laugh, sneak out, play silly games and just simply be. We did more than just share a bed."

His eyes stare at me with such softness. He is quiet, never interrupting as he listens. Every once in a while his eyes close as if he is imagining what used to be and a small smile forms on his face. After I finish, he stares at the dying fire, taking in all of what I just told him. His face drops and I think he's about to have another attack but when he looks at me his face is not angry but rather sad, "All of those special moments and you never loved me."

It's more of a statement than a question and I'm not sure how to respond but he continues, "You made the right decision though, it's easier to let go of someone if you're not emotionally attached to them. I'm just sorry I can no longer give you those moments."

"Who said I ever let you go?"

He gives a gentle laugh, "I don't know anyone you would stick around and put up with someone who wants to kill them one minute and hold them the next."

It's as if my heart stops at his words and I no longer know how to breathe. He wants to hold me? Peeta wants to hold _me_. But is it my Peeta speaking? It has to be. I pray that it is. If there is one thing I deserve, it is to have his arms around me, at least one last time.

"You could." I quietly whisper, "You could give me those moments again. I would allow it."

"No," he quickly states. "I don't trust myself. Sure, I'm fine now but all it takes is one second for me to become the monster Snow created."

"But you won't. I trust you."

"I don't trust myself."

I scoot closer to him and gaze into his eyes. "Please." I wrap my hand around his.

He looks at our hands and then my eyes. His breathing grows heavy as he shakes his head fiercely and quickly stands up. I stand up with him.

"I can't! I just can't. I could never live with myself if I hurt you."

"You already have. When they rescued you from the Capitol and brought you back to District 13, you tried to strangle me." I'm not trying to sound accusing and I know it probably isn't smart to bring this up to him but he has to see how much he has improved since then.

"I know! And they took everything out of my room just so I would stop trying to harm myself!"

What? Peeta tried to kill himself? "Nobody told me that."

"I asked them not to because I knew how you would react. As the Mockingjay you needed to put all of your focus on the districts that need you, not me."

I let out a frustrated sigh and throw my hands up in the air. "As the Mockingjay everybody needs me! Well, what about what I need? Did you ever think of that?"

He looks away from me.

"And what about what you need? Even when you're hi-jacked you still put my needs before your own! "

"Katniss, this isn't about me."

"Yes it is! Because _you _are what I need! I need you so bad its like you're my lifeline! I need to have your arms wrapped around me as I sleep. I need to see your bright smile in the early mornings when I wake up. I need to hear your soothing words just to balance my jumbled thoughts. I need to feel your lips against mine, and I need to feel that now!"

In one swift motion he has me pinned against the tree with both arms on either side of me. His eyes are filled with desire as he bites his lip and stares at me. Our chests press together with every heavy breath we take. His actions are uncharacteristic and intense, and are probably his darker side coming out, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't excite me. Is this built-up lust I didn't know I had for him?

"Please don't tempt me Katniss. You have no idea the effect you have on me."

"I don't think you realize the effect you have on _me_." I pull his face into mine, "But I _need _to feel that effect."

Without another word he presses his lips against mine. It's a sad moment, really. There's nothing romantic about it. We're not somewhere special like in the meadow back home. We're not clean and dressed up for the other like in our Capitol interviews. We're not even considered completely sane anymore. Instead, we are in the middle of a rebellion with the risk of being captured at any moment. We smell of sweat and dirt and look as if we've aged ten years. We are no longer clothed in the finest fabrics but rather weighed down by heavy battle gear. We may not even belong to each other any more. No, we are simply just a boy and a girl who are trying to make the most out of a tragic situation. Trying to take back what was once ours. Each other.

His body begins to shake from the venom so I grab his face with my hands to keep him steady. Eventually he relaxes and grabs me by the waist and pushes me against the tree as his kiss deepens. I twirl the back of his hair with my fingers as they get tangled in his blonde curls. His lips fit perfectly into mine and move as if he was never taken from me. My head feels dizzy and if he wasn't holding me, I'm sure I would have fallen by now. Most people say you see fireworks when you kiss the one you love; well I'm seeing fireworks mixed with explosions topped with fire. That warm feeling I felt on the beach has now intensified and is practically burning through my chest; giving a whole new meaning to being the Girl on Fire.

His lips slowly move from mine and gently trace my jawline down to my neck. He's never gone this far but I'm going to allow it. It feels so incredibly good, how could I not? I didn't realize how deprived I was of him or how desperate I am for his touch. This is so much better than the nights I spent tracing his pearl around my lips.

I laugh as his lips reach a tickle spot on my neck. Eventually, my lips begin to crave him again so I grab a handful of his shirt and force him to the ground so that I am on top of him. He laughs at my forcefulness so I capture his lips with mine again. Like a gentlemen, his hands stay on my back and never explore anywhere else; whereas my hands have a mind of their own. I run my hands down his arms and trace the outline of his muscles until I reach his chest. I quickly try to remove his uniform but grow frustrated at how secure everything is.

He quickly breaks out of the kiss, giving us time to catch our breath. He grabs my hands and removes them from his shirt as he gently kisses them. "Not here. Not like this. I want that moment to be special, when I can finally call you my wife."

I feel embarrassed by my actions (maybe I have a dark side of my own), but of course, Peeta doesn't criticize me. I wrap my arms around him and lean into his chest. I smile at the thought of being a wife. _His _wife. The one thing I never wanted but now actually consider, and for a moment, I feel complete bliss.

He kisses the top of my head and finally stands up, helping me up along the way.

"You need to get some sleep. Can't have the Mockingjay falling asleep on the job." He says with a teasing smile.

"You know I won't get any sleep. Not without you. Will you lie with me?"

"It's not safe. Who knows when my flashbacks will occur, I could fall asleep with you tonight and attack you in the morning."

I stare at him with pleading eyes, begging _him_ to allow it.

He lets out a sigh. "Fine. I'll stay with you until you fall asleep then I'll go to my tent."

"Deal." I say with a smile.

I grab him by the hand and lead him into my tent. I can tell he's nervous by the way he looks around so I plant a soft kiss on his cheek to calm his nerves. He climbs under the sleeping bag with me and it reminds me of the cold nights we spent in the cave. He wraps his arms around me as I lay my head on his chest. In a matter of minutes I can feel my body begin to relax as my eyes grow heavy. Before I know it, I'm dreaming of mine and Peeta's wedding. We are standing in our fiery Quarter Quell parade costumes as we share our first kiss as husband and wife while the sky is filled with fireworks and explosions erupt around us.

Yeah, Peeta really doesn't know the effect he can have on me.


End file.
